


Building Blocks

by WinterTheWriter



Series: Building Happily Ever After [29]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Flashbacks, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Missing Scenes, Romance, Sillyness, Smut, Tropes, We Got It All
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 10:52:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11125599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterTheWriter/pseuds/WinterTheWriter
Summary: Each and every moment counts, even the ones that seem insignificant.





	1. Matter Of Time

**Author's Note:**

> I'm the worst, I know. I'm sorry! I'm working full-time now and I'm just exhausted all the time but THANK YOU for being so patient, and I promise I'm getting back into the swing of it now. This is the LAST installment before the series finale. It's multi-chapter, though, because I wanted to put in all the scenes that were cut, overlooked, or just otherwise decided against to give Koschei and Steve that little bit more of a history. 
> 
> This first update takes place during Chapter 7 of Matter of Time! AKA, Steve is still "chasing" Koschei.

Koschei yawns to himself as he slowly walks into the kitchen one early Sunday morning, rubbing his bleary eyes with one hand and flipping on the kettle with the other. The sun is barely up, all the others still asleep (though not for much longer — he will never understand the humans’ appreciation with early morning exercise), and he revels in the silence and calm. Fixing his tea, he sits down heavily at the table and takes a slow sip, closing his eyes in relish of the scalding down his throat. 

It is only when he opens them that he sees the fresh bouquet of red roses sitting about a foot ahead of him. 

He blinks and furrows his brow, reaching forward to turn the little white card that hangs from the stem. It reads, “You know who these are for and who these are by,” with a little drawn smiley face and heart. 

Huh. 

Koschei shrugs and sips his tea, leaning back in his seat. Perhaps Clint got them for Natasha, though she’s never seemed like the roses type of person. Maybe it’s a prank? He could see Tony doing something like this, although who for still remains up in the air. 

Oh well. Koschei figures it’s best to leave the humans to their games, especially when they have nothing to do with him (and smell rather nice — he’s always loved roses). 

Just then, Steve walks in, wearing a sleepy and almost sheepish grin on his face, still in PJs. Koschei hides a smile into the rim of his mug as he sips. “Good morning,” he greets. “You’re looking dreadfully chipper for this hour.”

“What do you think?” Steve’s tone is almost…eager, grin widening. Koschei just raises an eyebrow. “….The roses. Right in front of you. I didn’t think I could put them in a more obvious place without breaking into your bedroom.” 

So /Steve/ got them. Interesting. It’s either a prank for the others or this little “game” between them is over, and he’s finally found someone worth chasing. Koschei clears his throat and aims for supportive. “They’re…lovely. Quite lovely. Who did you get them for?” 

Steve’s smile stays in place but his eyebrows shoot straight up. “Please tell me you’re joking.” Koschei just blinks at him. “…Sweetheart, I got them for /you/.” 

“I—you…what?” 

“You. They are for you. You are the man I want and am currently pursuing so I got you flowers because I’m smooth and cool and romantic.” 

Koschei’s in too much shock to respond. He looks back at the roses. Somehow, they look even better now. He reaches out towards them and tentatively touches a petal, like he expects it to dissolve into fiction. Steve chuckles and comes to stand behind Koschei’s chair, rubbing his shoulders gently. “Will you accept them?”

He should say no. He should politely decline and give them to a fan or something. This is all going a lot farther than he initially intended. 

Instead of all that, though, he finds himself just saying, “They’ll look best on my mantel, I think.”


	2. First Valentine's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Koschei have a soft spot for tradition.

Koschei wakes up to the smell of roses. He hums and yawns with a stretch, already smiling by the time he cracks his eyes open. Steve is, quite literally, dangling a bouquet in front of his face, all the while quietly chanting, “wake up, wake up, wake up” until Koschei playfully pinches him in the side. 

“Mmmmmorning,” Koschei slurs sleepily, sitting up and taking the bouquet. “What’s all this, then?” 

Steve plops down next to him in bed and presses a big fat kiss to his cheek. “Valentine’s Day. Our first, to be exact.” 

Koschei can’t help but beam a little, pressing his nose close to the roses and inhaling deeply. “Have I told you lately that you’re ridiculously cheesy?”

“Have I reminded you lately how much you love it?”

“I think you just did.”

This time, Steve’s the one who beams, face going all red and bashful and adorable. “Now who’s cheesy?” he murmurs. 

“You love it,” Koschei murmurs back, kissing the edge of his jaw. “Thank you, darling.” 

“I love /you/,” Steve retorts, catching Koschei’s lips with his. They stay like that for a few seconds, nothing getting heated — simply enjoying the closeness and intimacy. Steve pulls back to gently tug away the bouquet, setting it in a vase on the bedside table that Koschei /really/ should’ve noticed sooner. 

“I love you too. Why’d you take them away?” Koschei fakes a pout, just a little. but then Steve is suddenly hovering over him and purring something about celebration and, yeah, he can take the roses away for this. 

Happy Valentine’s Day indeed.


	3. Anniversary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Very important date.

“One year ago today, you became mine,” Steve hums into Koschei’s ear, punctuating the sentence with a deep, achingly slow thrust of his hips. Koschei chokes on a moan and clutches at his back, canting his hips upward. 

“I was — ah — yours long before that,” he gasps out, eyes rolling back a little at a particularly well-aimed thrust. With a breathless chuckle, Steve pulls back to smile dopily down at him, momentarily pausing. 

“True. And visa versa. Dunno if you know this, but I had a pretty big crush on you.” 

“/Nooooooo/,” Koschei drawls sarcastically. It sounds so foreign to them both that they dissolve into giggles, clutching each other through it. “Oi,” he says a moment later, still laughing a little. “Get back to work, you.” 

“Bossy. So bossy. I’d like to see you do the work,” Steve jokes, nipping at his neck and rolling his hips. Koschei moans and melts a little, and then the challenge actually processes. 

It takes him less than a second to reverse their positions. 

Steve looks up at him, dazed and very, very excited, and Koschei smirks down at him filthily. “You want work?” he purrs, rolling his hips in a slow circle that has Steve squeezing his hips and slamming his head back into the pillows with a groan. “I’ll show you work.”


	4. Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Koschei is a law-abiding citizen. Who can blame him?

“You gotta do it, it’s the law,” Steve taunts, lips puckered out exaggeratedly as he waves the mistletoe above their heads. Koschei jerks away, laughing through his protests, only half-heartedly pushing Steve away when he follows. 

“No, I shan’t, it’s ridiculous!” 

“YOU’RE ridiculous!” 

“Neither of us are Christian! We don’t even believe in a god!” 

“/Koschei/,” Steve huffs, “I am looking for an excuse to kiss you. By holding up this poisonous plant and chasing you around our bedroom.” 

“That,” Koschei points at the offending plant in question, “is plastic.” 

“You think it’s healthy to eat plastic?” Steve counters.

“….Fair.” 

Raising expectant eyebrows, Steve dangles the mistletoe closer and puckers his lips again. 

With a resigned sigh, Koschei leans in and kisses him sweetly, melting a little at the smile he feels against his mouth. 

He had to give in, of course. It’s the law.


	5. Steve's Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to like your birthday after a certain point.

“I’m too old for birthdays and you know it.”

“Steven Grant Rogers, do you understand /exactly/ who you’re saying that to?!” 

Pause. Steve slowly peeks up at Koschei’s face from his pillow and grins sheepishly. “A gorgeous, eternally-young, desperately sexy man who loves me too much to kill me?” 

Koschei furrows his brows, arms crossed, foot tapping. His anger is fake and they both know it, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t fun to watch Steve squirm a little. “I only /look/ eternally young. As do you. And, despite that, we /both/ age, which means it is your birthday, which means you are getting that old arse of yours out of bed so I can take you out.” 

“I’m /so/ getting you back for this on your birthday.” 

“You don’t know my birthday. Gallifreyan years work differently than Earth’s.” 

“April 12th. You told me.”

“…..Get out of bed, Rogers.” 

Steve puts on a big show of groaning as he unfurls himself from his blanket cocoon, stretching his arms high above his head with a satisfying crack. He opens his eyes properly and looks over at Koschei. 

Koschei, who has been standing there naked this whole time. 

Steve blinks.

“You’re naked,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Yes,” Koschei responds in the same tone, “have been this whole time.”

“Babe.” Steve climbs out of bed with a sudden (“sudden”) burst of energy, all dopey grins and grabby hands. “This is what you mention /first/.” 

“But we have reserv—mmmm,” Koschei harrumphs against his mouth but wraps his arms around Steve’s neck all the same, leaning up into the kiss. Steve breaks the kiss and leans down, hot breath fanning over Koschei’s ear. 

“I’d rather eat you instead.” 

Beat. 

Silence.

Stillness.

Koschei blinks up at him.

“…You wot, mate?” 

“….It was supposed to be sexy.” 

“I’ve eaten humans before, you know.”

“Okay, let’s get dressed.”


	6. Koschei's Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He should've seen this coming.

“I’m too old for birthdays and y—OI.” Koschei clings desperately to the duvet as Steve quite literally drags him out of bed by the ankle.

“Nope. No. Not doing this. I’m getting you back and showing you the night of your life and you’re gonna /love it/, dammit.”

Koschei twists in Steve’s grip with a whine, but he ends up being bodily lifted into Steve’s arms all the same. “You’re terri—naked,” Koschei realizes, settling into the fact that his very hot, very naked partner is holding him. 

“Yes, I am,” Steve flirts, waggling his eyebrows. 

“…Darling, this is what you mention /first/.”

“You’re ridiculous. You can’t steal my lines.”

“I can, and I will. Kiss me.” 

“Nope. Clothing!”

“How dare you!” Koschei gasps, mock-affronted as Steve carries him over to their wardrobe. “I should eat you fo—um.”

Pause.

Silence.

Steve clears his throat. 

“Please don’t eat me, I haven’t showered yet.”

“….Let’s get dressed.”


	7. Wounded Efforts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They didn't choose this line of work for the safety rating.

Koschei hears him before he sees him. 

Even through the thick walls of SHIELD’s medbay, Steve’s shouting and frantic footsteps are so audible the door between him and them might as well not exist. Koschei sighs, weakly, and leans back against the pillows, absently (and gently) scratching at the tape that tugs his skin around the IV. Mentally, he counts down. 3…

2….

 

1….

Steve bursts through the doors, looking crazed and exhausted at the same time, and as soon as he sees Koschei he opens his mouth to speak but Koschei just holds up a finger and his mouth clamps shut. Still wordless, Koschei reaches for him, and Steve stumbles over to his side and collapses heavily into the bedside chair, clutching his hand like it’s the only thing that matters. 

“Darling,” Koschei rasps, quiet and crackly and far weaker than he’d like, “I am /fine/.” 

“You…,” Steve starts, shaking his head, but Koschei just squeezes his hand and he settles down.

“I made an error of judgement, and because of that I got hurt. But I am healing. I am conscious. I am fine.”

“I told you not to go on that mission alone,” Steve mumbles, finally at an acceptable volume. Koschei sighs and rubs his thumb over the back of Steve’s hand. 

“HYDRA didn’t know I existed yet. I was the obvious candidate for an undercover mission. I broke that cover too soon.” 

“So I should’ve been there to—,”

“To what? Even if you’d’ve gone with me, you would’ve been back-up. You wouldn’t have been able to stop my decision. What would you have done? Taken the bullets for me?” 

“/Yes/,” Steve hisses out, like any louder would’ve made it a sob, “yes, of course, a /thousand times, yes/.” He looks pleadingly into Koschei’s eyes, his own red-rimmed and wet and grief-stricken like some part of him thought this was a hallucination and Koschei’s hearts break just a little. 

“Steve,” Koschei starts, patiently and quietly, with as much of an encouraging smile as he can muster in this state, “I’m sorry. You were right. I — never, ever, in a trillion years would’ve let you jump in front of /anything/ for me, you — the very thought is —,” he shakes his head rapidly, squeezing his eyes shut before opening them again, “unacceptable. To say the least. But I should’ve had backup. Next time, I will.” 

“/Next time?/ Like Hell—,”

“I am an Avenger, and I will not let you stop me from doing my duty for this world because you are scared for me,” Koschei cuts in sharply. And then, softer, “This is the business we’re in. This is the life we have /both/ chosen, my love.” 

Steve sighs and brings Koschei’s hand to his mouth, kissing it reverently with closed eyes before mumbling against the skin. “I know. I know, I do, and you’re right. As much as it terrifies me, I’d never try and stop you from being the hero you are. But…” Swallowing thickly, Steve glances up, meeting Koschei’s eyes. “Doll, I can’t take another funeral.”

Koschei knows exactly what he means. 

Shifting in bed, Koschei slowly gets himself into a semi-seated position, extracting his hand from Steve’s grip so he can open his arms. “Come here, Steve.”

“Your wounds—,” 

“—Are worth helping yours. Come here.”

For a moment, Steve just stares at him, blinking sadly, before he nods like a little boy being scolded and climbs into the tiny bed, folds himself into Koschei’s embrace. Being ever-mindful of the bandages wrapped around Koschei’s torso, Steve rests his head right between his hearts, feeling the grief lift from his shoulders when Koschei hugs him close with one arm and pets his hair with the other. 

They’re still in that position, at peace and asleep, when the nurses come to check on them three hours later.


End file.
